Not Like The Movies
by x-MJ-x
Summary: This was always going to happen between them. It was inevitable. It would never be loveless between them, but that didn't mean that she would tell him she loved him. It's raining, she's had a hard workout, he's had a hard night, the inevitable happens.


**Hi everyone, **

**I've been perusing the Law and Order: SVU section for a few days on and off now and I must say, there are some fantastic stories on here. Reading such amazing work has inspired to contribute my own effort. I've been watching re-runs of SVU here in the UK and just feel ready to submit my own offering. This is just the way I see things developing between Benson and Stabler. In my mind, Elliot is divorced before anything could occur, so I'm going to roll with that here. I hope you enjoy it and will let me know what you think. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own SVU its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. Also the title of this fic comes from the song of the same name by Katy Perry.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

What had started out as a shower had quickly become a torrent and as she went up the steps to her building, Olivia Benson was glad she'd decided to abort her workout when she had. As she let herself in and forced herself to take the stairs – a gruelling end of workout habit she always kept- she felt the burn in her thighs and calves and relished that feeling. It brought her satisfaction the like of which she could not achieve in any other aspect of her life and it proved to her that she still had it – that even with her forty-something years, she was still strong and fit enough to participate in an apprehension. She loved the control, she loved pushing her body to its limits and feeling spent and sated by the regimen she put herself through – it expended some of the tension she often felt after a day at work and alleviated – though did not eradicate- the needs her body had which she had not addressed in more than six months.

She slid the key into the door, letting herself in. The apartment was dark and quiet. As always. Just another reason why she had pushed her workout until the last possible second, she avoided the lonely hours of the night with diligent passion. She didn't bother with the lights as she dropped her keys, it was late and it wasn't like she intended to be up much longer anyway, not with her work schedule. She headed right to the kitchen opening the door of the refrigerator and squinting as the strobe light greeted her. She reached inside a little blindly and wrapped her hand around the open bottle of wine in the side of the door. Retrieving the glass which waited on the draining board – it hadn't been put away after last night's ritualistic ending to her workout – she poured herself a liberal measure.

* * *

As she sunk back into the couch cushions, she became acutely aware of her damp attire. Her white tank was pasted to her back and her cut off jog-pants stuck to her skin irritatingly. As she picked up the remote and switched on her television set with a loud pop in the silence, her eyes flicked towards the low-pile carpet of her living room and she noticed with a slight groan of frustration that her sneakers had left a trail of wet puddles all the way up to the couch. She sighed and toed them and her soaked-through socks off before drawing her legs up beneath her and turning her attention to the police procedural drama she'd found as if by instinct.

They were her guilty pleasure. No one at the precinct would understand of course, but she truly enjoyed them. On her worst days, when something truly horrific had occurred or they had been unable to apprehend a perp, it was good to see that at least someone was doing worse than they were. On the very best days, she relished the opportunity to relive a take-down, even if everything was just a little overdone. Like now for instance.

She watched as the latest perp on _CSI –what's-it-name _was thrown into the back of a police car off the back of some witty remark by its brooding lead detective. Seconds later, the shot cut to the same brooding, misunderstood man engaged in a heated argument with some hot young blonde wearing a lab coat. Said argument escalated, Detective A and Techie One drew closer together and...

Her buzzer sounded. She glanced at the clock. 22.42. She knew who was there. Had almost expected it. She got up and went to the intercom.

"Benson," she said.

"Liv? It's El, can I come up? It's pouring out here," he didn't need to tell _her_.

* * *

She didn't answer, just held down the door release for the mandatory five seconds and then went back to the kitchen where she proceeded to fill a tumbler of water. She'd quickly learned there was little point in offering him another libation when he came here, he never accepted. It took him a couple minutes, but she was waiting at the open door as he came up the hall. She smiled at him, a small, tight reserved smile and handed him the water as she stepped back to let him in. He accepted immediately and wordlessly.

"Rough night?" she asked as she picked up the remote and hit 'mute'. She didn't shut the show off, it looked like he could use the distraction.

"Something like that," he muttered closing the door and draining his water in one gulp.

"Wanna tell me?" she asked thinking about what he'd already told her this evening when they'd left the precinct.

Hmmnomm," he mumbled non-committaly, putting the glass down on the bureau and running a hand over his face.

"I went to see the baby tonight," he told her "only he's not a baby anymore Liv, he's almost two and... he looked at me today like I was some stranger..." she could hear the emotion threatening to break in his voice, she hated it. It would make things awkward.

She drew an arm across herself, folding it just below her bust before she spoke, it was a defence mechanism – don't bring this to my door. "It's hard for him, he's a child El. He doesn't understand the reason why his Dad's not around," she said, knowing what he'd assume – that she was taking his ex-wife's side – women together. That was not true, at all.

"It would be a whole lot easier if _she..."_ he paused a moment, seething – oh she'd poked the beast, "if _Kathy_ wouldn't pretend like I don't matter in his life."

"What d'you mean?"

He muttered what she was sure was an expletive under his breath before he released a heavy sigh. "Kathy. She's all David this and David that."

"Who's David?"

"'Hell if I know," he said. The new guy then, Olivia assumed.

They were silent for a while and in that time, he turned his attention towards the television set, noticing for the first time what she was watching. She followed his sight path and watched with him for a couple minutes. Things had obviously heated up between the characters on screen. Techie One was now wedged between Detective A and his desk, her shirt half open and her head thrown back. So damn unrealistic, she thought disdainfully. Did they really think that police officers had nothing better to do with their time than manifest sexual tension and unleash it on their partners? She tsked quietly, suddenly becoming aware of the low sound of a moan. She knew it wasn't coming from the set – it was muted after all. Flicking her eyes up, she noted the slight dilation of Elliot's pupils as he stood transfixed – his eyes going between the scene and her face. He wasn't thinking about... _them_, was he?

Caught out by his partner, Elliot cleared his throat, trying to push this thought process out of his mind. How many times had that exact scenario played out in his mind – between he and Olivia? How many times had she come close to slapping him, how many times had he wanted to kiss her? Too many, he reasoned, turning his attention back to her face.

"Damn it Liv, I miss it," he said, his eyes flicking back to the set where the couple were embracing passionately.

Maybe she replied, asked him something like 'miss what?' but she didn't think she'd actually heard the words leave her mouth. It didn't seem like he was looking for a conversation at any rate, he just stared over her shoulder and continued rambling – about Kathy about Elliot junior and his other kids.

"It's the whole thing, you know Liv?" she didn't, couldn't know what he was going through right now. "I mean I get home, the apartment's empty, I haven't seen my kids in a month and there's just... There's nobody there. Don't get me wrong, I don't miss Kathy... at all... I hope she's_ very_ happy with _David, _but... sometimes I think... Damn it... I want that," he jabbed his finger towards the television where the couple were now safely ensconced in bed and the blonde wrapped her arms around her lover in a tight embrace. "I wanna be held, touched... I want to touch a woman, I want to have somebody, you know?" She did. She knew exactly what he was talking about, had often experienced a similar feeling herself and with sudden clarity, she understood why he was here.

He was telling her that s_he_ was his somebody. It didn't come as a surprise per se, they had an extremely close relationship, as partners and she liked to think, as friends but he knew by now, surely he knew... she was no good with the touchy feely emotional stuff. At all. She could tell somebody what they wanted to hear – '_Call me Daddy Olivia', _she'd call the guy Daddy – _'Tell me you love me Olivia," _she'd run a freaking mile. Looking at Elliot, she could tell precisely what he wanted right now and that was so clearly her. Not in any perverse way, he simply wanted the assurance that she'd be his somebody. That was easy, he already had that - which was why he had been so confident he could come here in the first place. What he needed however, was an entirely different matter. He needed the touch of a woman, he needed to know that his life hadn't ended with his marriage, he needed to know that he was categorically not alone and that was something she couldn't tell him. No, she could not utter any believable words to make this better for him, but she could certainly show him. Realising she hadn't spoken for several minutes, she took a step closer to him and reached out for his hand, feeling the automatic response of his fingers closing around hers.

* * *

She knew. She had known. She would know. It didn't matter now. Any which way she phrased it, she implied even subconsciously, that she had thought about it. Of course she had. She was as red-blooded as any woman and he was extremely attractive after all. On many levels she almost knew him better than she knew herself, she spotted his tells far better than she could her own and could read his emotions far more easily than trying to sift through the complicated mess of her own feelings. This was inevitable. She knew, of course she did, that this would happen. She knew, had always known that it would never be loveless between them – but that did not mean she would ever tell him she loved him. She was well aware that when it happened – because realistically, it had always been a matter of when not if with them – it would be natural. Not the result of some grand admission of love, not off the back of a heated and charged argument, just the two of them, holding each other close and providing each other with precisely what they needed – the human contact which would grant them the knowledge that they were not alone.

That was why she was unconcerned by what was transpiring between them as she sank back against her pillows, guiding her partner down with her. She had nothing to fear from him, they knew each other so well that fear was illogical, it was the two of them, just Olivia and Elliot and she had nothing to hide in front of him. She could hear his staggered breathing as they lay this way – her pressed tightly between the mattress and his body – for a while. He was uncertain about this, was half expecting that he was dreaming it, she could tell but she had never approached anything with greater clarity in her life.

Reaching blindly between them, she grappled for his hand and guided him past the rumpled layers of their damp clothing until their joined hands settled over the waistband of her jog-pants. He stilled a moment, searching her eyes but all that shone back at him was certainty and she was sure that was what encouraged him on.

* * *

He slid her pants from her rain-slicked body, hardly daring to believe that this was happening. When he'd first met Olivia Benson, he'd marked her as kind of prickly and the more he'd gotten to know her, he realised that it wouldn't unman him to admit he'd shy away from going one on one with her in a fight. That was why he was so hesitant, it wasn't that he hadn't imagined them together – it was just that he'd always had one of those stupid kiss-me-or-kill me- moments in his head, the kind that frequently manifested in movies and those police dramas she'd been watching. He'd always imagined they'd get into one of their dumb fights and they'd be so moved that this would happen, but instead here they were and it was so quiet, so still and so utterly sexy he could hardly control himself. He loved the feeling of her under him, loved the closeness of their bodies and the sounds of their breathing as they puffed out air and tried to process the change. He half expected her to kick him in the balls but her pants were at her knees and he was still unscathed. Thank God.

* * *

Olivia smiled as she felt him ghost his hand against her thigh, heading steadily higher until his slightly rough fingertips brushed the edge of her panties. She'd heard the noise of surprise he'd made when he'd made contact with her skin and she loved it. Of course he was surprised. He'd probably thought she was the kind of woman who let herself go when she didn't have a man around, but that was not the case. Olivia often felt defeminised by her role in the PD or otherwise she was the object of unwanted attentions and could never get a firm handle on what it meant to be a female detective in the SVU and so, in her personal life, she liked to keep things as feminine as possible. Her few indulgences were for the benefit of feeling and looking good – a home wax kit which kept her legs and 'intimates' smooth, a slick of nail varnish on her toes, a hard workout to keep her body firm. She wanted to feel like a woman and right now, under his gaze and tender touch, she had never felt more feminine.

* * *

She was a surprise to him. He liked that. He always thought she was attractive, he'd noticed it immediately and he knew she had her reasons for playing that down when they were at work – it wasn't easy being a female officer in the NYPD and it certainly made her job within SVU more difficult, but here in the dark as he shifted down her body and let his mouth connect with the soft, warm skin of her inner thigh, he'd never thought her more beautiful.

He fiddled with the edges of her utilitarian white cotton panties a few moments more, knowing that he couldn't have imagined it better. Stripping her of her workout gear and practical underwear made this more real, more raw and honest somehow, than if he had been helping her out of Victoria's Secret's latest offering. This was perfect, this was about them, just Elliot and Olivia – there was no show, no work being put in to impress one another and yet, he was impressed by her. He was impressed by the fact that she was letting him in, dropping the distance of their professional relationship and inviting him to experience her as a man rather than as her partner.

He traced small hot open mouthed kisses along the skin of her thigh, blindly reaching up to the waistband of her panties as he heard her let out the softest of moans. It was the most delicious sound and he knew he had internalised it forever, he would remember it forever.

"Liv," he muttered almost breathlessly as he drew her panties down her legs, halting briefly to disentangle them from her ankles. She did not respond verbally, he hadn't expected her to, but her hand slid down her body until it connected with his head where she dug her fingernails into his skin. He groaned at the discomfort and shifted his head up her body again, his nose and lips making that first contact with her intimacy.

* * *

She was beautiful. That was the only thought which filled his mind as he dared to chance a glance up at her face. Her eyes had been closed, but she seemed to sense his eyes on her and they flew open, fixing him with an intense stare. Her mouth was twisted into a slack 'O' and she looked like she was about to say something. He did not want to ruin this with words. In an effort to silence whatever had been about to tumble from her lips, he leant in closer to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her soft, sumptuous skin. Once again her verbal response surrendered to that which was entirely more guttural and instinctive. Her loud cry filled the room and he smiled against her flesh as he began to draw her into his mouth, teasing her for a few moments more before he allowed his tongue to plunge into her depths, swirling, exploring and consuming her – taking the sensitive bud of her womanhood between his teeth and grazing it lightly, marking her as his.

Her cries became more fervent, her control began to desert her and soon despite her better judgement she was crying his name, one hand clawing at his head whilst the other fisted tightly at her side. He played with her this way for a while longer before abruptly abandoning his ministrations and moving his lips higher placing a kiss to her taut lower abdomen, a hint of which peeked out from beneath the tight white Lycra tank she was still wearing. He wanted nothing more than to strip her of it, but he sensed he had to take things more slowly than that. What he had just done to her, for her, was intimate enough, he should give her a moment's composure before he attacked the rest of her body with his kisses. Besides, with the taste of her still lingering in his mouth, he wanted to kiss her, to share the exotic, erotic taste of her lust with her and he wanted it now. Sculpting a careful path back up her body, he took his time to ensure he caressed every part of her – the flatness of her stomach, the jut of her shapely hips and the swell of her ample bust- before his lips mercifully met with the bare skin of her neck where her tank dipped into a scooping round neck. He pressed eager kisses to the skin there before moving higher, nipping at her jaw and working his way towards her mouth. Just as he was about to press his lips to hers, she pulled away, abruptly turning her face from his. He experienced a surge of panic but tried again, getting the same response. Sliding his hands up to her head, he tried to pull her around to face him but when he eventually gleaned success he saw the glistening of tears in her eyes.

He wanted to assuage them with his kiss, but every time he tried, she moved just out of his reach.

"No, El," she said. It was the first time she had spoken since they'd entered the bedroom and her voice had taken on a delightful sexy husk which did almost nothing to push away his panic at her sudden change of heart. She pushed up against him until they were in a semi-seated position and she curled her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder. She was still for a few minutes but then began pressing her own tender kisses to the skin which peeked out of the top of his shirt. After a while, he felt her move her hands lower, heading for the buttons on his dark polo, before her slightly tremor-stricken fingers popped them. He drew her in closer, pressing a light kiss to her temple as she fisted his shirt in her hands and began tugging it over his head. He helped her rid him of it, throwing it somewhere off to the right but losing the ability to care about anything other than the way she lavished attention on his strong torso.

"El," she muttered almost inaudibly as her fingers moved steadily lower, grazing the button fly of his pants. He let her pop it but disallowed anything further, returning his hands to her body and finding that as before, hers quickly covered his as he gripped the hem of her tank. For a moment he saw defiance flash in her eyes and wondered whether she intended to fight him, but this soon gave way to defeat and she released his hands, raising her arms above her head and waiting for him to strip her of her shirt. He did as he was bid, not because it was what she wanted, but because he was longing to see her, to know her, all of her.

* * *

The tank hung limply in his hand for a moment as he forgot it in favour of devouring the sight of her almost completely nude. There it was, as expected – the perfectly utilitarian matching white cotton bra and frankly, he didn't think he'd seen anything sexier. Of course, he'd been privy to her underwear clad body before, but this time was different. This time there was no pretence, there was just him and her and soon she would be naked and his for the taking. It was almost unbelievable and yet their time together had an uncomplicated simplicity which told him that it was most definitely real. She reached behind herself unclasping her bra and letting it fall open without discarding it. She assumed he'd pull it from her immediately – that he'd want to see her, but he surprised her by leaving it exactly where it was, desperately clinging to her still impressively firm bust. Maybe he wasn't a breast man, she reasoned thinking back to his intimate kiss. She did not need to worry that he was backing out, his attentions to her, the selfless way he had brought her rushing to a heady climax told her that her body turned him on, but he had grown still again and she could not explain it.

She was incredible he thought as he watched her watching him for a moment. Her eyes were so expressive that any words she could utter would be entirely un-necessary. He could tell he had confused her, she'd assumed that he'd be like probably every other guy she'd been with and have her naked within seconds of her unclasping her bra, but he wanted to prove that he was different – that he would treat her the way that someone as special as her deserved to be treated and besides, he rather felt the need to conquer this refusal to kiss him first.

Placing one arm around her back and hearing their mutual sharp intake of breath as his fingertips grazed her open bra, he lowered her back down onto the mattress, brushing away her rain- and- sex mussed waves from her forehead as he settled himself unobtrusively between her already parted legs. They stared at each other for several long seconds and she drew her left knee up towards her, automatically creating a wider gap between her thighs for him. He shifted against her, making himself more comfortable before attempting to kiss her again. Once more she avoided his mouth, surging up against him as she arched her upper body away from the bed and reached out for the zipper on his pants. Her unexpected movement caused their pelvises to bump together harshly and she gasped in unbridled passion as she felt his readiness for her.

Keeping her eyes locked on his and doing her level best to ignore the pain she could see in his returned gaze, she grappled with the zipper, unable to see what she was doing and only knowing that she was achieving her aim when she heard the sound of the metal releasing. Flicking her eyes shut, she swallowed, trying to steady herself as she peeled back first one side of his waistband then the other, revealing him to her slowly. She moved her hands back after a while, thrusting them into the back of his pants and letting them trace the firmness of his backside. He groaned tightly against her shoulder as she used the heels of her hands to push his pants and underwear down where they pooled at his knees. He broke the closeness of their bodies for the necessary seconds before settling himself between her legs again. Their lower halves now completely bare, skin-to-skin contact was unavoidable and they both let out a hiss of appreciation at the feeling.

* * *

Her hands resumed their previous occupation almost immediately and it did not take her long to find him. He was kind of hard to miss. Once more, she kept her gaze locked on his as she allowed her fingers that first contact with his throbbing manhood. Running them down his full length, she felt her fingertips brush against the coarse tangle of hair at his base and could not stifle the moan which escaped her, a noise which simply had to be followed up with a kiss. Almost forgetting her own rules, she went for his lips, noticing his smile and diverting her own at the last moment until her ill judged kiss landed on his shoulder.

Continuing her gentle ministrations, she felt him harden beneath her hand and changed her tactics. Unable to tell who was more surprised by the sudden feeling of her hand wrapped around him, she let out another moan realising for the first time that her cupped hand could not contain him.

He saw her eyes widen with some delight and knew in no uncertain terms the cause of her shock. He was hard and ready for her, his pulsating lust manifesting itself _thickly _to say the least and not that he would ever ask her, but as he touched her and came to know and understand the sinews of her body, the tension in her face and the tightness of her heat, he knew it had been a while for her. It would be alright, he wouldn't make his invasion until she was perfectly primed for it and he sensed he had some work left to do in that regard. It was time for that bra to come off.

* * *

Struggling somewhat to gain enough composure to once again become her selfless lover, he bucked against her as her thumb and forefinger found the very tip of him and began stroking him sensuously. Somehow, he managed to dull the urge to enter her now and grabbed rather more roughly than he intended at the cups of her bra which in the course of their tussle had slipped a little anyway. Grasping her arms and drawing the last barrier between them off of her body, he discarded it carelessly. Straddling her painfully - the underside of his girth meeting with the slightly stubbly exterior of her intimacy -he felt himself twitch against her. Closing his eyes to afford himself a brief moment's composure, he tried to ignore the movements of her hands on him in favour of taking in her complete nudity. When he opened his eyes, she had moved one hand to his face and was tracing the jut of his jaw as her other hand moved from his desire steadily upward, over his hip, across his lower abdomen and up to his ribcage.

"Poor Elliot," she rasped with the slightest tremor of a laugh. She reached beside her for his hands which had been sitting mock-demurely, desperately pleading with him to let them touch her and laced her fingers through his. That was it. He was undone by her.

Using the connection he now had with her, he pushed her hands backward, forcing her arms above her head where they instinctively wrapped around the posts in her headboard. He couldn't have imagined it better himself. There she lay, all stretched out, subtly olive-y tan and perfect. He allowed his eyes to feast on her a minute before he finally gave in and traced two fingers down her front, towards the fleshy orbs which begged for his attention. She was surprisingly pert given her age and out of nowhere, his mind was filled with an image of her rubbing firming lotion into her breasts, lavishing care and attention on her own skin. This image caused an involuntary moan, which he was pleased to see had no small effect on her. Her nipples were erect in seconds and he was overcome by the need to encircle them with his mouth. He withheld however, letting the roughness of his fingertips have the pleasure of attending the turgid flesh.

"Oh," she moaned, a flood of heat and desire pooling between her legs. This was too much, he was too much.

* * *

Eventually touching was not enough. Although he loved the fact that each time he flicked his thumb against her she hissed and moaned delightfully, he needed to feel the hard nubs on the soft walls of his mouth, longed to taste her sweetly scented peaks. Curling into an awkward C shape, he took her between his teeth, his tongue and mouth sucking, swirling, pulling until she cried out, over and over, his name falling from her lips like an exultation. He throbbed against her leg, knowing that he could not take much more of this, of her without being inside of her but he would not hurt her.

Reaching between her legs as he kept his eyes fixed on her, he groaned out her name as his fingers met with the sticky warmth of her lust. Placing a knee on either side of her body, he made his way back up her until they were face to face again and she disentangled one hand from the bed post, gripping the back of his head and stroking back and forth with her thumb.

"Please, El," she murmured and right there, in that moment, he knew it wasn't selfish of him to want her, to take her. He could see the same struggle reflected back in her eyes and he knew this meant so much more than the act, this was proof – that neither of them were alone.

* * *

His penetration of her, when at last he allowed it occur, was slow and steady. It took some effort, everything in his body begged him to pound into her hard and fast, but he held back, his mind winning out. He watched her every second as he entered her, witnessing the full range of emotions which ran across her features as he pushed further and deeper into her. He felt himself slide the final distance until he filled her completely and he was suddenly overwhelmed by how much she felt like home to him.

When she had grown comfortable enough she slid her hands around his expansive back and gripped the bunched muscles in his back as she thrust her hips towards his and they began to move together. It was steady and loving and she could feel and hear every one of their responses to each other echoing around her otherwise silent bedroom, but she knew they would not last long. She hadn't been with anyone in six months and she was fairly certain that he hadn't slept with anyone since Kathy about the same length of time ago and she could already feel her climax building. Looking up at his face, she noted the contorted pleasured-pain of his resistance and she knew she must release him.

Squeezing her arms even more tightly around him, she felt her inner walls clench hard around him and she stared up at him resolutely. "Let go," she murmured "I'm right here," she said and soon after felt the rush of him as he spilled love and lust into her.

* * *

Silence had descended. She hadn't curled into him, hadn't rested her head on her chest. He lay on his side facing her, his breathing heavy. She lay on her back staring straight up to the ceiling, her breathing equally erratic. Their former closeness might have seemed like a distant memory if it weren't for the fact that the tips of their fingers were tightly entwined. He reached over to her with his left hand, his body lifting from the mattress slightly as he pushed her wavy hair back off her face again. Her eyes had drifted shut at his touch and as he heard her swallow hard, he smiled, loving that the feeling between them wasn't disappearing.

"Liv," he mumbled after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

"Mmm?" she said not bothering to open her eyes, she was too content.

"I just wanted to know... why wouldn't you let me kiss you?" he asked, knowing that his asking could go two ways, either and he hoped that this would be the case, she would answer his question, or she'd kick him out of her bed right now.

"El," she muttered testily. There it was. The big question. Of course she knew why she wouldn't let him kiss her even though everything in her screamed at her stubbornness to let him, but she didn't know if she could explain it to him without sounding deluded.

"Don't 'El' me Liv, please just answer the question," he said.

He was close, she could feel his breath on her cheek, there was no escaping it now.

"Come on El, you really wanna know?"

"Surprisingly, yes," he replied with the slightest note of sarcasm.

"You'll think I'm crazy," she said rolling onto her side and finally looking at him. He wasn't giving up, there it was the mulish stubbornness which lead to so many convictions. She blew out a breath. "Alright... you asked for it," she sighed placing her head in her hand as she propped herself up on her elbow.

"It's so stupid really. It's just... Well, El, we deal with sex on daily basis. You and I, we know how to handle it, what it means. You know as well as I do, sex – real honest to God sex – before it gets all crazy at work – it's just two people in the moment, trusting each other, sharing something with each other and damn it El, if there's one thing I know it's that I trust you. This was inevitable, even you have to admit that and I'm happy it happened but you know I've never been good at the rest of it – the emotions, the sharing the feelings and to me that's what kissing is – intimate, complicated... There, I said it," she huffed rolling back onto her back.

"So..." he was trying to make sense of it all she knew, "let me straighten this out in my head, what we just did, you can make sense of that, but us kissing being something more, having something more than what we've always had, what you've always 'expected to happen', that frightens you right?"

"I'm not frightened," she said defiantly, embarrassment blooming on her skin.

"Give over Liv, I know you, remember? I frighten the shit out of you as a man." His statement took no prisoners and she had to admit that he was right. The thought of them moving on from this as anything other than Liv and Elliot, partners and friends frightened the shit out of her because she couldn't lose him.

"Damn it El, can't we just have this?" she asked a little angrily. "We're not ready for anything... more." What she meant was that she wasn't ready to take the further risk.

* * *

He was silent after that and she thought she'd lost him. That had always been the risk. She thought about saying something, but didn't know what, thought about touching him but didn't know what was appropriate now. After a while she assumed he was sleeping. She kept her eyes closed and tried to follow him but images of them, replays of their conversation ran over and over in her mind.

* * *

She was almost asleep, he could tell, she'd grown still and her breathing had settled. It had to be now. "Liv?"

She moved her head towards the sound of his voice, her body rolling toward him in her half-wakefulness. "What El?" she mumbled sleepily.

"I think we are."

"Are what?" she said, stirring and opening her eyes, her face setting into a frown of non-understanding.

"Ready. For more," he said and without further hesitation, his lips were on hers before she could protest.

He pressed a single tender kiss to her mouth before pulling back, he needed to see her face. It was a picture worth taking in. It was anger and lust and contentment and did he spot love? all at once. He was just about to drop his mouth back to hers when she shifted closer to him, their bodies melding under the comforter as she pushed her lips back onto his, letting her tongue caress his bottom lip. He let her in more than willingly and they fought a tender battle, their soft moans and the occasional muttering of one another's name filled the room as they kissed tenderly, passionately and fiercely until the need to breathe forced them apart.

Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him and he ran his hand beneath the comforter, gripping her backside and rolling her onto her back so that he could once again feel her beneath him. He let a pent up breath escape him before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the spot just above her eyebrow.

"Ok?" he asked her wondering if he dared to kiss her again.

She contemplated his question for a minute as she ran her fingertips along his cheekbone. "Ok," she sighed, conquered by him at last. He smiled and lowered his mouth onto hers at precisely the moment she looped a leg around his hip. It might not have been like the movies, but they both knew it was exactly like them.

* * *

**There it is. This was really hard for me to write, I'm usually something of a dialogue fanatic, but I wanted to try cutting back and having only necessary words in there, so I hope that worked out. I hope you liked it, please let me know and if you'd like to see something else Olivia and Elliot based, I'll gladly take suggestion, or see where the mood takes me next. **

**Please excuse any minor editorial things, I've tried my best with them. **

**Thank you for reading Xx**


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